Destroy (A Standalone Romance Novel) (26 page)

“I guess you’re right.
But I am to blame as well…”

“In what way?
 
How? You just showed up. All he did was tempting
you with an ice-cream cone and in bed you went. You’re not to blame for any of
this.”

“I should have said no. I
should have refused his advances. Why did I go along with his seduction?”

“You know why, Hattie.
You even admit it to yourself and to me: you love to have sex with him. If you
had not met him in New York, you wouldn’t have fallen for the guy the way you
did.”

I had to agree with her.
The one-night-stand in New York truly sealed my fate. I was doomed the minute I
walked into that hospital.

“What do you think I
should do now?”

“Listen to me, Hattie,”
Tiffany said, getting to her feet and gathering our empty plates. “Don’t start
running from the problem. You’ve done nothing wrong as far as your professional
record is concerned. If your personal life sucks right now, that has nothing to
do with your career. You should not move an inch.”

“But I’m putting undue
stress on Jeff and his wife by being there.”

Tiffany dropped the
dishes in the sink with a clatter. “Don’t you start being the pawn in this game,
Hattie.
Stand up for yourself. You’re a fantastically
talented surgeon–that’s all you need to remember right now.”

“Thanks for the
compliment, but I really don’t feel that great at the moment.” I fell silent
and cleared our coffee table of the remnants from our dinner. “Besides, I’m
thinking more about Elizabeth. That woman has gone through hell and back and
she still shows me the courtesy of praising my work.”

“Exactly what I was
saying a minute ago, Hattie. Elizabeth Aldridge has some years on you and the
sagacity of separating professional and personal lives from one another. She
praised your work–rightfully so–and could slap your face silly the next minute
for accepting to sleep with her hubby.”

“Yes, you’re right. She
hates me personally and appreciates me professionally; I don’t think I could
ever do that.”

“Wait a few years and
you’ll be surprised at what you’ll be able to do,” Tiffany concluded as she put
the dishes, pots, and pans in the dishwasher.

In no time, Thanksgiving
was upon us. I had promised to visit my parents (if at all possible) in the
next few weeks. In reality, I wanted to get away. I wanted to recharge my
batteries. I wanted to put some distance between Jeff and I for a few days. The
hospital wouldn’t let me get away for Thanksgiving, of course, but maybe the
weekend before that would be okay? I wouldn’t say anything to Jeff about my
intention; I would just ask Dr. Kerry if I could sign out for three days. She
agreed readily. For some reason, she thought it was a great idea. I wasn’t sure
if she had talked to Elizabeth or even to Jeff, but all that mattered was that
I was getting out.

Tiffany was happy for me.
She thought it was the right move to make. She would be on the phone–texting
me–every day. She didn’t want to interrupt my mini-vacation any more than that.

The evening I left,
instead of going home, Tiffany had brought her car to the hospital and she drove
me to the airport. As we pulled out of the garage, I bent down in the front
passenger seat so that Jeff wouldn’t see me–he was again waiting for me in
front of the hospital’s entrance. At least I thought it was me he was waiting
for. I had not seen him in a couple of days, and since I had been working in
the transplant department for the last week, I made sure our paths didn’t
cross. I wanted to cool my heels a little, and give him the opportunity to do
the same.

As I arrived at the
airport, I made a beeline for the washroom and changed into jeans and t-shirt,
comfortable runners and a warm hat. Omaha can be horribly cold around
Thanksgiving. I wanted to be as prepared as I could be. I packed my suit, shirt,
and high heels in my case and returned to the check-in counter. I made a quick
work of getting my boarding pass out of the electronic machine and rushed to my
gate. I was just in time to board the plane. No lounging around this time. Yet,
I took a quick look about me to make sure Jeff wasn’t in sight. He wasn’t.

As soon as I sat down, I
exhaled a sigh of relief. I was out of that infernal grind.

The next thing I knew; we
were landing. I had slept all the way. I felt as if I had had an entire night
sleep. It was great. I knew my brother, Eliot, would be waiting for me at the
exit gate. As soon as I was out of the plane, I practically ran down the length
of the arrival’s hall. It seemed I was anxious to be home. I couldn’t wait to
see my parents–my father especially.

Eliot took me in his arms
as I rushed to him. I don’t know why but I started crying.

“Hey, hey?” he said,
holding me at arms’ length. “What’s going on? Has anything happened?” I shook
my head. “Why the tears then?”

“They’re happy tears,
Eli. I am just so happy to be away from everything and happy to be home.”

He pulled me back against
his chest again. “We missed you too, sis. It’s been too long since you were here
last. Everyone is waiting for you. It’s like you’re the celebrity now.”

We were walking down to
the parking lot. Thank goodness I was wearing my dawn-filled jacket, otherwise
I would have frozen the minute we went through the door. I didn’t bother asking
him what the temperature was, but suffice to say it was horribly cold.

“I don’t know about being
a celebrity, but I truly enjoy the work. To see the faces of these recovering
patients after they’ve received a new organ is truly priceless, Eli. Every day
I thank God for my having the chance to give people another lease on life.”

“And you’re becoming very
philosophical, too, aren’t you?”

I threw him a big smile
as we got to the car. He had bought a new SUV the minute he heard his wife
Janette was pregnant. “How’s Janette?” I asked as I climbed (literally) onto
the passenger seat. “When is she due?”

“Oh, not before April. It
will be a spring baby,” Eliot replied as he pressed on the ignition button. I
must admit; it was a fabulous vehicle. All the comforts of home. The heated
seats were truly a surprise–loved them. The GPS was as clear as could be. Anyway,
I was in total admiration of the SUV’s interior when Eliot asked, “Did you give
Mom’s number to one of your colleagues?”

The question threw me for
a loop. “No, I mean not that I recall. My roommate is the only one who has
Mom’s number as far as I know. Other than that, I had to give her number as ‘the
next of kin’ when I first registered with that hospital. Why? Has someone
called?”

“Yes. A guy name Jeff Aldridge.
He talked to Mom for a bit. Apparently he’s the doctor that she met at your
place when she was there.”

“Oh. Well, yes. He talked
to Mom when we had dinner together. His parents suffered from Alzheimer’s
before they passed and he gave her some tips regarding Dad’s treatment. Why?
Did he want something else?”

“I only talked to him
briefly when I was at Mom’s place to pick up Janette, and he only wondered if
you were here. He didn’t seem to know where you were.” Eliot turned his face to
me briefly and smiled as I sank back in my seat.

“I didn’t tell anyone I
was leaving,” I said. “I didn’t want to talk to him, actually.”

“Why? Is he after you by
any chance?”

I nodded. “Yep. But since
I learned that he’s married, I am trying to avoid him.”

Eliot continued to smile.
“It was bound to happen, Sis. You’re a gorgeous woman and any man would want to
take you–married or not.”

“Well thanks, Eli, but I
would rather if the guy didn’t have a ring on his finger.”
 

Chapter
29

“Ah there you are!” my
mother exclaimed as she opened the door of our house.

“Miss you, Mom,” I said
as I put my arms around her neck and kissed her on the cheek. “How have you
been?” As I was asking the question, I saw my dad standing behind her with a
frown across his brow.

“Just fine, dear.” Mom
then turned to my dad. “Look who’s here, Gerald. It’s Heather. Our daughter.
She smiled when we both saw recognition in his eyes.

“How are you, Dad?” I
said, going to him.

“Where have you been? Why
are you so late coming home? Out with the boys, were you?”

“No, Dad, I wasn’t. But I
am sorry for being late. How are you?” I peered into his eyes.

“I am fine. But it is
late. We should get you to bed. You’ve got school tomorrow, haven’t you?”

“Not on Saturday, Dad.
But I will be going to bed right away.” I felt a pang of sadness hit me in the
stomach, as if Eliot had been punching me. My poor father!

“Let’s get your case in
your room,” Eliot suggested, getting my carryon out of my hand.

“Right behind you,” I
said, going up the stairs with him.

As soon as we were in my
room, Eliot said, “It’s been hard on Mom, as you probably know. But the hardest
part for everyone I guess is that he doesn’t recognize people anymore.
Especially when we don’t have a photograph handy to show him. So they are
beginning to think it really is Alzheimer’s. He did better for a while like Mom
had told you.”

“Is that why he had a
photo of me in his hand when we came in?”

“Exactly. Yet, our
efforts were rather in vain. When he hesitated and didn’t recognize you right
away, I was afraid he would ask you to leave.”

“Oh my. Did he do that
before?” I was horrified at the thought that my father would soon forget who we
are.

“Yes. Just last week, he
asked Alice and John to leave the house after dinner. He had been fine through
the meal and then all of a sudden he turned on them. If it wasn’t so tragic, it
would be funny.”

“I know,” I said, nodding.
“He will regress continually if it is Alzheimer’s.”

“What if he doesn’t know
his grandchild?”

I bowed my head. I didn’t
want to tell him, but I had to. “He will be overjoyed, Eli, when you show him
the baby for the first time and explain who he is. But, I’m afraid, after that,
he’ll forget that he has a grandchild. He might even think the child is one of
us.”

“I don’t know how we’re
going to cope with that,” Eliot said, sitting at the edge of my old bed.

“Just think of Mom.
She’ll be the one who will need the support you guys can give her. The more she
can baby-sit the baby, the better it will be for the both of them.”

“Oh well, we’ll have to
cross that bridge when we come to it, I guess.”

“And we will, Eli.”

“Yes, but you won’t be
here, will you?”

“I’ll be here for the
birth of my nephew–gosh, nothing is going to stop me from coming back the week
before. I’ll even ask for leave as soon as I get back.”

Finally, my brother
smiled. I did too.

“Let’s go down before
they go to bed,” Eliot suggested.

“When am I seeing you
again then?”

“We’ll be here in the
morning. Janette and Alice will help Mom with Thanksgiving dinner and John and
I might take you and Dad for a spin around the ice-rink. What do you say?”

“Are you serious?” I was
staring at him goggle-eyed.

“Of course I am. What do
you think you came back for? We figured you can do all the shopping you want in
D.C., but you’ll never be able to skate with your brothers such as you do
here.”

I hadn’t put a pair of
skates on for nearly three years. “Of course, and
yes
, Eli, I’d love to go skating with you guys.”

The next morning came far
too soon. Sleeping in one’s own bed after a long absence seemed to be the right
prescription for getting rid of stress and anxiety. The smell of bacon and
eggs, coffee and biscuits was literally enticing. I couldn’t get dressed fast
enough. I was not only famished but I hungered for my mom’s embrace. I needed
to feel loved.

“Ah, there you are,” she
said, a broad smile on her lips. “Have a seat by Dad. I’ll get your plate
ready.”

“Okay,” I replied while
pouring myself a cup of coffee.

My dad ignored me completely
until I sat across from him and patted his hand. He stared at me as if he had
just met me. I didn’t take offense. I knew it would happen. He looked down at
the newspaper and folded it. He passed it across the table to me. “You like the
crosswords, don’t you?” I nodded. “Well, go for it then. They’re not too bad
this week.”

I was amazed. Five
minutes ago, he hardly knew who I was and now he remembered about my liking to
do the Saturday crosswords.

“Ah yes, this is
Saturday, dear,” Mom said to me, “Because we get the paper with the crosswords
on Saturday.” She put a plate of poached eggs and bacon in front of my dad.
“Don’t we, dear?” she asked him.

“Yes, yes. I know. This is
Saturday.” Dad then raised his gaze to me. “Well, aren’t you going to eat
anything? Or have you finished already?”